<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Unwritten Tale by BloomingMiracle (Luna264)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042893">Unwritten Tale</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna264/pseuds/BloomingMiracle'>BloomingMiracle (Luna264)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kingdom Hearts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Kingdom Hearts III Spoilers, Mentioned Aqua (Kingdom Hearts), Mentioned Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Mentioned Ventus (Kingdom Hearts), Mentioned Xehanort (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas Has Issues (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas Is Bad at Feelings (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas-centric (Kingdom Hearts)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:41:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna264/pseuds/BloomingMiracle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He chased the praise, the only way he knew how, and his resentment boiled over.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Unwritten Tale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In the darkness, he remembered taking his first breaths. He could feel himself, rent in two, and he was dying. He was given a name, and he was dying. His other half stabilized, and he was dying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was his other half’s fault, he was told, and he believed it for he had nothing else to believe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His master, his creator, trained him, but could not and would not be with him always. When he was alone, he found his other half. He watched his other self laugh and sing and adore the world, and the resentment he was born from became too much to be contained in his shape alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So it took other shapes, instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After some portion of eternity, he was finally bid to reconnect with his other half.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other boy </span>
  <em>
    <span>did not remember him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He did not remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was almost too much for him to bear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tormented his other half, and the friends he’d made, and perhaps he went too far but for once his master had praised him and he realized that was what he wanted. He wanted someone to praise him. He chased the praise, the only way he knew how, and his resentment boiled over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His other half was beginning to remember. It wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew he was meant to be whole again. That was what his master had told him, and he believed it for he had nothing else to believe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only, he saw his other half’s friends fall in and apart on each other and stand back up and love each other again, and he didn’t understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Did he have to take his other half’s face back, when they went to each other in the hot, dusty, dark place where he was born and died? He insisted he had, but privately he knew otherwise. While he dreamed, he savored the concern he’d been shown in the second before she’d realized. He knew it was for the other him, but sometimes he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretend</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His master did not know where he and his other slept, but still reached and pulled on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>single ounce</span>
  </em>
  <span> of praise and dragged him into wakefulness. Another duty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He performed it well, until his resting place stood before him, the rest of himself still inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He performed it well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so well</span>
  </em>
  <span>, until his other woke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He performed it so, so well, until he knew he had to concede, and he slipped back into the warmth of his resting place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the heart of a dead man, he realized. It was the heart of someone who was going to lose his grip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew what had to be done, so he defied his master, keeping his hostel grounded until all the work was done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His brother would never sleep there again. He was ready to sleep there for eternity, as he fell away from the world with someone who barely knew him but still managed to know better than anyone else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>content</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He didn’t know how to be. But his resignation didn’t hurt, and maybe that was close enough.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I started this during a free-write in my creative writing class and finishing it was easier for my (a little sick) brain than writing any of the eight papers I am currently assigned so uh</p><p>yeah</p><p>Fog? In /my/ brain? it's more likely than you think.</p><p>EDIT: I read this for one of my finals so if any of my classmates see this now I promise I did NOT steal it</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>